This DCverse is Maddening

They were not fine.

After Angeline had stormed off to the nearest elevator, forcing the group to hurry after the irritated girl they had come across an immediate setback.

There were only nine buttons. If that wasn't all, there were no labels whatsoever anywhere in site! It was like the group of teenagers were in flailing about in a glass box. Oh wait, they were. It had taken them almost ten minutes to figure out which button was which. But only with a helpful employee who noticed their difficulties on the third floor.

"Who creates an elevator like that?"

The blonde fumed.

"Someone with too much money."

Marceline quipped.

"I d-don't know, it m-makes some sense…"

Steve said quietly.

"Of course it would make sense in hindsight."

Michael added.

"Don't these things usually have cameras and audio recorders?"

Albert asked.

"Good, I want them to know how stupid this is."

Angeline huffed.

With a ding, the glass doors opened let the group see a rather disappointing sight. All the other floors they visited had an interesting theme. One floor had spatters of paint everywhere, another had cut up pieces of cloth while another had half naked people just walking around as if it was normal. They didn't spend too long on that floor in particular. But this floor only had a long hallway leading to a plain oak door.

"Is this it?"

The tall youth asked with a sighed.

"M-maybe it gets e-exciting inside?"

"Let's hope so."

After walking through the empty hallway, passing the wide open view of the city below, they came a step away from the closed wooden door.

"Whose going to-"

Albert was interrupted by the sound of the door opening with a click. As it did so, the group began to give each other uncertain looks.

"Come on in," A soft male voice called from inside," I can't take all day with this…"

Taking a deep breathe, Angeline led the way into the office, her blonde locks turning gold under the afternoon light. This was quickly followed by the rest. Albert once again had some high expectations regarding this man's office. But was once again disappointed.

The office was just that, an office. A large room with a couple of bookshelves behind the large mahogany desk. Pictures and trophies lined the walls, and a couple of chairs sat around a less imposing table.

Behind the hand-carved desk sat an older gentlemen, looking to be around in his late fifties. Black hair fighting a losing battle against silver. He had pale wrinkled skin, a slightly crooked nose from one two many fights. And wise green eyes. Wearing a nice business suit over his thin frame, pulled together his appearance of an old hand in the game.

A thin, closed mouth smile etched across his face as he motioned for the visibly disappointed group of teenagers.

"Sit, I really don't have the time to waste."

"Of course."

Angeline spoke before taking the seat closes to the man's desk and being the last person in the room, Albert too had to sit next to the potential murderer. But he didn't hold his breathe, there was no signals blaring from Psychology. Meaning the man wasn't one or even more terrifying, was so good at hiding the signs that it wouldn't matter in the end.

"Thank you for meeting us Mr. Hadrien."

The blonde decided to break the somewhat awkward pause.

"It's no problem Ms. Gramercy," He waved," You're mother was oh so kind to help me out so it's the least I can do. What can I help you with today?"

"We were wondering if you would be willing to talk about your childhood."

"Oh," He sighed," Is this for one of those summer reports? If so then I suggest you get my interview online. It should still be good enough as a reliable source."

"No," Albert decided to cut in, picking up the slack from the obviously uncomfortable teenagers. He couldn't blame them, from their point of view they were in the same room as a murderer that had gone free for forty years and was a bit freaked out at that fact. But he decided that he would talk to them later.

"We want to hear about your time at Gotham's First Highschool."

He continued. That name seemed to force Hadrien down a road of memories. Images and experiences flickering past his green eyes as he submerged himself fully in nostalgia. From Albert's perspective, he could see a variety of emotions flicker across the man's face. Fear. Resignation. Gratitude. Sadness.

"I haven't heard that name in a long time," The old man sighed, sinking further into his cushioned chair," As long as everything is off the record, then I have no problem."

"No one will believe us anyway."

Albert shrugged, ignoring the shocked gazes from his temporary party. He was right, it didn't matter what was said here. This man was the head of one of the biggest fashion companies in Gotham, and what did they have on their side? A bunch of teenagers who hadn't even made a name for their selves.

"That's agreeable," Nethanel nodded," Then I guess I'll start at the beginning. Growing up, my father was the leader of a certain mob. It was actually pretty prestigious at the time. He tried his best to edge his way into the upper echelon of Gotham's elites. But sadly, in their eyes it didn't matter how much money a commoner had. Trash was still trash. But my father wasn't so easily defeated and married into an influential family to have me. He saw he as nothing more than a key to greater heights. I'm not going to say I had a terrible childhood, my mother was very protective of me and wouldn't let anything bad happen to me. Those were the best 10 years of mine life. But then she got sick and died. Leaving me with my suddenly extremely wealthy father. No longer having to hide his activities, he brought me fully into the 'Family Business'. And tried to mold me into his next heir. I did a lot of things that I'm still not proud of. But anyway. I was a wild child in high school. I took whatever I wanted simply because everyone was afraid of the mobster/socialite. During my senior year, Ms. Gran came to our school as an assistant teacher. My teenage self was instantly smitten and followed her around like a puppy."

The man then fully paused and allowed the memories to stream past him. A small smile curled on his lips as he did so. Albert didn't want to break the old man out of his trance and signaled for the party not to interfere.

"She was," He continued," Really something special. And with my father's prodding, I tried to pursue her. It didn't work whatsoever. Every time I opened my mouth, only gibberish and nonsense came spewing out. It must've been quite the sight to see. The Terror of Gotham's Schooling System, spluttering like a schoolboy. She never held it against and still treated me with kindness. When she died it broke me out of my stupor and finally forced me to actually think of what I wanted in life. I realized I didn't want to lead my father's mob. So I worked for a couple of years doing anything, warehouse labor, cooking, waiting. Anything and everything until I saved up enough to afford college and the rest is history."

"Could you go back a bit," Albert said," Why did she treat you kindly?"

It was obvious to him, the man had skimmed over some details regarding that fact. And like a shark that smelled blood, he struck without mercy.

"Oh," The man deflated slightly in defeat," I wasn't the only one trying to court Ms. Gran, her direct superior Gerald Ferrell was in the running too. At the time, I felt incredibly insecure before the man. He was tall, well-respected and handsome. I didn't think I stood a chance so I in all my wisdom, asked my father for advise.."

"What did he say?"

The young private eye prodded, getting a feeling as though he could read the man like a book.

"He told me, if I wanted her. Then I should take her, that she would have no choice but to accept me as no other man would after."

A look of sadness and disgust crossed his wizened face. Albert noticed the nervous glances and paling faces on the group of teen's faces. Michael clutched at the armrest, Steve absentmindedly wiped at his glasses. While Angeline twirled her locks around her finger, and Marceline played with her finger nails.

"So with that in mind, I waited after school and cornered her in her office. Through out that day, I felt incredible nervous. I knew what I was doing was a serious offense. A betrayal of a sense. But I felt at the time that if I didn't do it, I was going to lose her either way. I didn't even need a reason to loiter around her office, she called me in after school. I was prepared to bail and just face whatever the consequences was from my father." Nethanel paused," Instead, she sat me down and asked me what was wrong. Her tone reminded me so much of my mother that I just spluttered everything out, years and years of treatment from my father. The death of my mother, everything. And I finally ended everything with the advise he gave me. During it all, she just held me as I cried."

"When I had finally stopped crying, she looked me in my the eye, took my hand and shoved it under her shirt."

"WHAT?!"

The teen's exclaimed, different degrees of shock spreading across their faces. They had expected this story to go a different direction, not like this though.

"I know," The old man chuckled," I was just a surprised as you are now, my mind stopped working for a bit there. The woman I had pined after had made the first move. At least that's what I thought.."

"What do you mean?"

Michael, finally shaking off his fear and shock asked. Adding his first line of dialogue in this entire conversation. Causing Albert to sigh in relief. He was so glad that he didn't have to carry this part of the investigation all on his own. Luck and the man's willingness to get this off his chest was probably the only reason why they weren't kicked out on their asses.

"Ms. Gran asked a simple question," Nethanel turned his eyes away from the group and faced the window," Do you feel anything? At first I didn't understand what she meant, I felt flesh beneath in my palm. It took me a few moments to truly comprehend her meaning. I didn't feel a single iota of sexual pleasure from the contact. Nothing. Zilch. After seeing the comprehension in my face, she let my hand fall out of her shirt and sat behind her desk once more. It was a surprise on my end to truly know that I wasn't attracted to woman whatsoever and really put a different frame of understanding over my previous actions. She told me that she went through something similar growing up, realizing that she wasn't attracted to either males or females. And how it dramatically freed her. So she had left her family and came here to Gotham for a new life. Ms. Gran told me that she could tell that her and I were kindred spirits in that regard. It wasn't until I was much older that I got the necessary label for people like us, asexuals. She then gave me a list of books to read and told me that her doors would always be open to me. I didn't sleep much that night, my mind just kept going over what happened and what it meant for my future. I knew my father would never accept me for who I was. And the following morning, they found Ms. Gran dead on school grounds."

"What happened next?"

Angeline hedged.

"My father thought I had done it," The old man said sadly," And for the first time, he was proud of me. So he greased some palms with the police commissioner and had everything brushed under the rug. Deeming it a suicide. But it didn't matter, everyone knew how infatuated I was with Ms. Grand and thought I was a killer. I dropped out of school and decided to fade into the background of people's memories. The rest is history."

"W-who do you think did it?"

Steve asked, fully enraptured in the story. Forgoing his previous fear.

"I don't know.." Nethanel softly answered," I had some ideas over the years but never really had the courage to pursue it. I thought my father was involved in her death, maybe that's just my dislike for the man leaking through. It could've been one of the many woman jealously pining after Gerald Ferrell. I just don't know."

"So do you think we should question him next?"

Marceline asked, partly to the old man partly to her group.

"That would be a good idea," He smiled slightly," Except he's been dead for almost 10 years now.."

"Well there goes our lead.."

Michael sighed in defeat.

"Not necessarily," Albert said," It's likely he has a descendant here in the city."

"Its possible," Marceline nodded in agreement," We just need to narrow down all the Ferrells in Gotham."

"I don't think I can help with that sadly," Nethanel looked at the clock in consternation," And it seems like our little meeting has gone beyond the allotted time."

"Of course," Angeline stood up," We won't keep you Mr. Hadrien. Thank you for agreeing to meet with us."

And she then left the room, followed by the rest. The silence on the way to the elevator was so suffocating to say the least. Worry, fear, disbelief, wariness and disgust waged a war in their thoughts.

"Do you believe he did it?"

Marceline asked Albert. She had noticed how calm the youth had been through out that entire conversation. Even all those experiences with malicious ghost could've prepared her to speaking with a suspected murderer.

"No." He shook his head. Causing them all to look at him in disbelief. They hadn't taken him to so easily believe a sob story like that. But before they could pile on him with a variety of examples and explanations, he raised his hand up," We shouldn't talk about this here."

Even Angeline had the nerve to look properly chastised, a first for sure, at his rebuke. He was right, they didn't know who was listening and didn't want to break their word.

******************************************************************************* Albert could feel their anxious energy continuously build as they made their way out of the glass tower. And frankly, the constant furtive glances they gave him was getting a bit annoying.

When the group had finally broke out into the cooling evening air. The sound of traffic, cars honking and people chatting filled his ears. The occasional store turned on their neon lights and cast the sidewalk in a differing array of color.

"D-don't keep us in s-suspense!"

Steve exclaimed, looking to be just a moment away from shaking the answers out of the teen's body.

"Let's walk as we talk." Albert said, purposefully agitating the group," Anyway the signs were pretty plain to see. First, what kind of person would tell us all that if they were the killer?"

"Smart one," Angeline huffed in annoyance," From some tv shows, they always have the murderer trick the detectives by throwing a random lead out there."

"True," He nodded, really wanting a hat of some sort to play with in this moment," But you're forgetting something. Those kinds of people are called sociopaths. They're like predators among humans. They don't feel guilt or remorse. Meaning, it would be easy for those who don't know what to look for, to not notice when they're lying or just spouting bullshit."

"Okay?" Michael said in confusion," Can we get back to real life and off crime shows?"

"There are some kernels of truth in those shows though," The young investigator shrugged," But fine, that man did feel remorse over his past actions. Even after all these years."

"How can you tell?"

"Simple, there was no amount of pride anywhere in his speech. Usually such people would often brag about there past actions. Narcissism is a bitch like that. They can't help themselves."

"Like what you're doing now?"

Marceline quirked her eyebrow, causing Albert to pause in his act. Indeed, he had derived some form of amusement at their annoyance and went full tilt into his noir act.

"You had to go ahead and ruin my fun.." He sighed in defeat," Fine, you people have no sense of substance. I know he didn't kill her due to one small fact. He called her Ms and not by her actual name."

"So?"

"It meant, even to this day that he felt such respect for the woman who turned his life in another direction. It wouldn't be strange for a person to kill someone they admired due to some kind of negative event but not here. She accepted him fully and guided him down a different path."

"What about my theory of him being a sociopath?"

Angeline asked, hope evident in her voice.

"His father sent him there to rape her, but couldn't go through with it in the end. Hence, the sense of empathy that sociopaths simply lack."

Albert answered back quickly.

"S-so if it wasn't him who killed h-her, who did?"

Steve asked,

"I don't know," The youth slumped his shoulders," As he said, there are too many possibilities here. His father could've had her killed, the teacher might've been involved, it's less likely its one of his suitors though. Maybe another student? We don't have enough information."

"I can look through Gerald's records?"

The blonde said, almost hesitant at the prospect of going back to the archives.

"I'll go with you.."

Marceline decided to throw her friend a bone, she was there when Angeline almost died at the amount of paperwork they had to go through.

"That would be appreciated." Albert nodded in agreement, not feeling even an ounce of guilt at the work he had just piled onto the two girl.